


patron saint of the lost causes

by warmth



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4835927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmth/pseuds/warmth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Tell me about the temples,” Zuko murmurs into his neck, wetly. They have five minutes. Aang rubs behind his ears, his back, so much stronger than him. “About Gyatso and the air nomads.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	patron saint of the lost causes

**Author's Note:**

> did someone say sad arranged marriages for the good of humanity  
> +title comes from St. Jude by Florence and The Machine, I highly reccommend listening to it and like. crying.  
> ++I'm camped out [princezukq](//princezukq.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you wanna watch me have breakdowns about air benders and the fiery love of their lives ♡

 

There’s no easy solution to the gigantic mess he’s about to walk himself into.

“Here,” Aang says just before Zuko is to be married. His smile is wobbling at the edges. “Your hair’s all messed up.”

“What would you know about hair, huh?” Zuko replies softly, leaning into him.

Aang’s fingers scratch his scalp lightly, “More than you apparently, Sifu Birdnest.”

God, does he ache for this stupid kid. Zuko’s heart burns in his chest like a living fire pit. He could stay here forever, Aang’s hands in his hair, the smell of him all around, grass and sea salt and home. He _could_.

“Almost showtime.” Aang says, breaking his reverie.

“Yeah,” Zuko says. 

-

_They’re sitting in a bathtub in the winter and everything is white but their bodies._

_“Like this,” Aang says, happy here. He’s holding Zuko’s hand in his own, two wet palms pushed together. “Then - blow!”_

_Zuko chuckles, nuzzling along the back of his neck and biting down gently. Aang’s eyelids flutter._

_He says, “If I do that, I’ll set you on fire.”_

_“C’mon, I think you could pull it off!”_

_Zuko runs a hand up along his back, along his spinal tattoo, down across Aang’s collarbone before he lowers his mouth to the boy’s shoulder blade. Sealing his lips at the bone, he breathes out lightly, letting warmth grow and settle at the surface like plant roots. This is what it’s like, wanting so much that you forget what no even sounds like._

_The Avatar hums, satisfied, leaning back into his chest and curling in all his long, stray limbs._

_“See,” Aang murmurs, warm and pliant, “told you.”_

- 

“You look, uh,” Aang says when he stands back, biting his lip and smiling, admiring his work. Zuko watches him rub his head, dig a foot into the ground nervously. It works him up in ways he tries to ignore.

(Aang deserves more than this. He tries to remember that.)

“I look?” Zuko prompts, because he’s selfish, selfish and wanting.

“Like a fine husband, Firelord.”

It’s a punch in the gut. Soft words, seemingly harmless. Aang’s eyes, ocean eyes, too big for the world. The dark color of his tattoos in the low light. _I love you_ , he wants to say. _I love you, I swear on my life that I love you._

Zuko is silent. Aang’s wringing his hands in skinny fingers. The room is too warm and he feels sure that this is the last time he’s gonna see the Avatar for a long time. Zuko doesn’t blame him.

“Aang, I - ”

 _I’m sorry. I don’t know what to tell you, but I know I’m sorry._ He can’t get the words out around the lump in his throat and he’s - he’s ashamed. Zuko closes his eyes, turns his head away.

“Hey.” Aang’s fingers are steady on his cheeks and he’s closer than he has been in the last four months. “Shh. It’s okay, Zukes. You’ve, well, you’ve just got a big heart is all. You wanna do good.”

Zuko grips Aang’s wrists and holds on for dear life.

-

_“They love you as much as ever,” Zuko grins, looking out at the crowd with his hands clasped behind his back._

_Aang’s cheeks are hot and red and he looks so goddamn happy. Zuko wants to put him in a picture frame and keep him forever. It’s the winter, still. He wonders how long the snow will last, watches Aang spin it between his fingers, much to the fire nation’s delight. Momo wraps himself around Zuko’s calf and purrs._

_It’s been five years since the end of the war and they’ve managed to cobble a life together here in the palace, makeshift and content and exactly like them. The guards don’t say a word about their sleeping conditions, but his advisor mentions it once._

_“The palace is large, Firelord,” The man says, not unkind. “Perhaps the Avatar would be more comfortable elsewhere?”_

_Zuko’s eyebrows draw in and he says, “Aang will sleep where he pleases.”_

_He thinks of this now, staring at Aang nervously._ Let him have another moment of happiness _, Zuko decides. He deserves that, at least, before everything goes to ruin._  

-

“I never see her,” Zuko says quickly, “She lives on the other side of the world, Aang. I don’t even know her.”

Aang replies, “You’ve decided what’s best for your people. You can’t back out now.”

The Firelord takes a shaky breath, leans into Aang’s soft palms, kisses there once, twice, three times.

“Ask me to stay,” He pleads. “Ask me to walk away from this and I’ll do it.”

“I can’t,” Aang’s voice is level like a slate wiped clean and Zuko can’t tell what the hell he’s feeling, but everything he doesn’t say is laid out on the table. _I want to, but I can’t, don’t you get that?_ He’s close enough that they’re breathing the same air, “Zuko, I - ”

Zuko presses his hand against the back of Aang’s neck and rocks their foreheads together. He doesn’t cry, but his heart thuds in his chest, a heavy thump-thump-thump. They’re silent for a long time and Aang is starting to shake apart under his hands.

His voice cracks when he speaks again.

“Don’t, please.”

-

_“The earth kingdom is angry with you,” Aang says, late at night, worried. “They won’t listen. I don’t know what to do.”_

_Zuko pulls him into the circle of his arms, brings the sheets in closer around them. It’s dark save for the moon and Yue’s light makes Aang into a bright, shining silhouette._

_“I know.” He replies, mouthing at Aang’s temple. “I’ll figure it out.”_

_Aang rubs his eyes before leaning in and pushing their mouths together. Zuko’s never quite gotten used to it, the way things flare up in his gut like the universe is sealing itself shut and imploding. His lips slide open and Aang’s tongue moves into his gently. When they pull apart, Zuko’s a little out of breath and feels incredibly tender, as if his soul’s been wrung out to dry._

_Aang looks at him for a moment longer, gripping his face and blinking slowly. Then, he sighs._

_“I think that’s what I’m afraid of.”_

-

_Wen is a beautiful young lady, the way one would expect a princess would be. She has long, dark hair and a happy spirit. Sokka smiles when he meets her for the first time, bittersweet. He and Suki are holding hands._

_“Duty,” Sokka tells him when he corners Zuko at their welcome banquet that night. “Isn’t always worth sacrificing love for, Zuko, trust me.”_

_Zuko swallows and finds Aang across the room, speaking to the Earth King and gesturing excitedly about something or another. His feet are hovering a little off the ground, same as when they were both dumb kids, too enthralled by dragons to think clearly._

_Sokka’s hand falls heavy on his shoulder, comforting. All the fight drains out of him._

_“I think you’re being really strong and I know your nation needs you but - he needs you, too, you know?” Sokka says, gentle._

_He frowns, settings his jaw and thinking about what he wants to say._

_“I - I wished for him,” Zuko says, a little too sharp. “Since I was nineteen, I wished for him everyday. I wanted him to love me. I wanted,”_

_His voice is starting to crack and shatter. Sokka’s grip tightens. He looks up at him with glassy eyes and thinks of Aang’s sleeping face in the morning, of his cold fingers under Zuko’s robes in the winter, thinks of his boyish personality and his overwhelming compassion, aches at the little memories that are starting to feel like glass shards in his chest._

_Zuko continues, says, “He’s it for me and he’s always going to be. But I need to protect my people before I get to be happy.”_

-

Zuko can hear people filing into the courtyard, heavy footsteps and excited chatter. _The Firelord is getting married._ Benders are lighting ceremonial candles and draping the staircase leading up to the palace entrance through the window. He’s sitting on the floor with the love of his life in his lap, trying desperately to brace himself for what’s about to happen.

“Tell me about the temples,” Zuko murmurs into his neck, wetly. They have five minutes. Aang rubs behind his ears, his back, so much stronger than him. “About Gyatso and the air nomads.”

“How about I tell you something new,” Aang replies, voice smoothing over all his hard places, “something about a young fire prince that’s been struggling with what he wants for a long time.

“Aang - ”

“He grows into beautiful man,” Two fingers curl into his dark hair gently. “with a good soul. He glows when he’s in love and I don’t know if I can stand to lose him. But he’s so important to me, Zuko, and I will go with whatever he thinks is right.”

“I don’t know what’s right. I have no idea.” Zuko whispers, lost.

The Avatar strokes a hand down the side of his face and says, “You do, you just have to look. I’ll wait for you outside. When you figure it out, I’ll be there.”

Aang climbs up and goes without another word. Zuko, on his knees, watches him walk away.  

-

_It’s a sticky summer and Aang’s sitting on the cliffside of the southern air temple with his feet hanging over the edge, reaching his palm up into the air with his fingers outstretched. Appa sleeps at his side, snuffling in his dreams. Zuko leans against a pillar and stares, smiling a little. Aang laughs happily when the light hits his fingers just right, the sun so large on the horizon._

_“Zuko,” the boy calls, staring down into the misty abyss, “Get over here, look!”_

_His eyebrows furrow and he jogs down from the patio on bare feet, down into the grass. He pinwheels to a stop, nearly catapulting himself off the edge where Aang is pointing, eyes all lit up._

_“Sky bison,” He says reverently. “they’ve come back.”_

_Zuko looks at him, watching the baby bison cuddle up to their mother below them with watery eyes. His skin has never looked so gold as it does now and his face is scrunched up with happiness and nostalgia._

_“I love you,” Zuko blurts out all of a sudden without meaning to. He clamps his mouth shut quickly, wants to punch himself in the face._

_Aang’s head snaps up and his fingers go slack where he’s got Appa’s fur held between his hands. “You - what?”_

_He coughs gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck. His cheeks are burning. “I, uh, well.”_

_“You said,” the Avatar says, mouth open, beautiful as Zuko’s ever seen him, “You said you loved me.”_

_Zuko digs the heel of his foot into the rocks and looks down at the sky bison. One of them mewls and headbutts its sibling affectionately. He scowls, waiting for rejection._

_“You could just say you don’t feel the same and get it over with, alright?”_

_Aang says, “You’re not very smart, are you, Hotman?” and then he’s kissing him, a little bit messy and overenthusiastic and_ perfect _, hands slipping into the hair at the nape of his neck_

_Zuko nearly throws them off the cliff in his haste to return the gesture, holding him hard around the waist, memorizing the feel of his body, the slip of his clothes, the flush of the skin at his shoulder. He pushes kisses behind his ear and along his neck, his collarbones, down. Aang gasps and sighs._

_“Zuko,” He’s saying, over and over again. “Zuko,_ Zuko _.”_

 _“I’m here.” Zuko answers desperately. “Aang, I'm here_ _."_

**Author's Note:**

> And I'm learning, so I'm leaving  
> And even though I'm grieving  
> I'm trying to find the meaning  
> Let loss reveal it
> 
> \- Florence and The Machine, "St. Jude"


End file.
